Winter colors
by Larme Delamort
Summary: [Small SPOILER of Deathly Hallows] If the snow covered the whole world outside, and the wind was blowing so coldly, why did he feel so warm? [Snape x Lily] [One Shot]


**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Harry_ _Potter_ or its characters. They're property of J.K. Rowling. This fanfic is in no way profit intended.

**Summary: **_Small SPOILER of Deathly Hallows_. If the snow covered the whole world outside, and the wind was blowing so coldly, why did he feel so warm? _Snape x Lily. One Shot._

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**WINTER COLORS**

_by Delamort_

Snape stared at the poorly wrapped gift sitting on the table in front of him, staring back defiantly. A thick carpet of snow covered the street of Spinner's End and the ground all around his house. His parents were out, creating the perfect opportunity he was waiting for.

And still… He couldn't seem to move. At the same time that a strong power of will compelled him to reach out his hand and grab the present, a dread even more freezing than the wind outside acted as a brake. It was action and reaction, of equal forces and opposite directions, holding him back.

The sun was high in the sky; it was almost midday, which meant that Snape had been dwelling on this indecision for about two hours. And the hour he and Lily had promised to meet each other was approaching alarmingly fast. And he hadn't made up his mind yet.

Taking advantage of the limited magic he was able to control and was authorized to use, since he was still only a child, Snape had spent the last month knitting a scarf – or at least he hoped with all his heart that the overwhelming confusion of woolen threads would become a scarf in the end.

About one month before the arrival of winter, Lily had casually made a comment – Snape couldn't even remember the whole conversation – about how she had never liked a single scarf her mother had ever bought her. They were all gray or black and dull. What she really wanted, she said with dreamy eyes, was a beautiful, bright, colorful scarf, made from the most pure wool and extremely long, so she could make countless loops around her neck with it.

And Snape's heart was filled with excitement and joy once he had finally, after two weeks of intense research and investigation, found in a small muggle store – who would have thought! –, whose owner was a kind but mysterious old lady, what he considered to be the most pure wool on the face of the earth.

And so, he had spent most of the hours of that month locked up in his room, working restlessly, doing the best he could, with the help of a little magic, to knit the scarf he had so vividly imagined when Lily told him about her dream. Not even his parents' constant arguments could distract him from his work; his dedication and desire to make everything as perfect as possible seemed to build a kind of barrier around him, which no sound could cross.

Finally, on that same morning, he had finished his knitting and the scarf was ready. Snape, hands trembling with happiness and anxiety, put the scarf on a small box and wrapped it up, leaving it on the top of the table in his room, while he changed his clothes. And there the box stood. And there, it was still standing.

Suddenly, a knock on the door caused Snape to jump up from his chair, alarmed, his heart racing. Was it possible that his parents were back already? He took a second to calm down his mind and realized that it couldn't be his parents; they didn't _need_ to knock on the door. Then he glanced at the sky and noticed the sun was past midday point. How long had he been sitting there?

There was a second knock. Walking towards the door, his heart beating faster than ever before, Snape knew who it was. The knocks were too soft to be from someone else.

"Severus!" Lily seemed surprised and a little hurt. "You never showed up!" And the look on her face changed to worry and fear, as innocently as only Lily could. "Did something happen? You know… between your parents?" The last words were whispered, followed by a frightened and furtive glance, trying to catch a glimpse of the inside of the house.

Snape couldn't help but curve his lips in a faint, almost unnoticeable, smile. He stepped aside, opening the door a little wider.

"I'm sorry, I woke up a little late."

Lily looked at him in suspicion – Snape was definitely not the type to "wake up late" – and walked into the house, accepting the mute invitation.

The room was a simply decorated living room; there were very few furniture – a bookshelf, a cupboard, a couch and a table, with three chairs – all of them looking quite old and dusty. While Lily looked around with interest, Snape stared at his own shoes, anxiously waiting for what Lily would think about his house. She then smiled at him, a sweet and innocent smile, which he just couldn't take his eyes off.

"Can I see your bedroom?"

Most of the time, Snape was incapable of saying no to the incredibly red haired girl. And this time, it wasn't different. He walked past her, stopped before the only door on one of the walls and opened it. Lily walked through, cheerfully, and into the bedroom. It wasn't much different from the living, except that it looked a lot cleaner; there was a wardrobe, a bed and a small table on the corner, with a single chair. Everything seemed quite gray and austere; standing on the top of the table, a small gift box, wrapped in a red and green colored paper, was so strongly in disaccord with the decoration that it was hardly unnoticeable.

For Snape's sheer terror, Lily approached the box and asked:

"Why haven't you opened it yet?"

Snape stood there, in silence, utterly shocked and confused; which must've seemed quite obvious, for Lily added:

"The present!"

He took one deep breath, walked towards her, gathering all of his courage.

"This is for you." He said, simply.

Her whole face lit up, as a bright smile came along.

"Thank you so much, Severus!" She shouted, giving him a quick hug and grabbing the box tenderly.

She didn't tear up the paper; instead, she sat on the bed and started opening it as carefully as she could, by thus prolonging Snape's suffering. What would she think?

When Lily finally took the scarf off the box, the bright green eyes twinkled with tears. Snape felt his blood freeze completely, and his heart seemed to have stopped. 'She hated it.' he thought. And he hated himself.

But there was simply no way Lily could've hated the scarf. It was incredibly long, and through all its length, tons of different colors merged into each other so perfectly they seemed to be one; and every single smooth woolen thread seemed to glow magically.

Silently, Lily got up and hugged Snape again; but this time, it lingered. Her voice was even sweeter when she whispered:

"Thank you, Severus. This is the best gift of my life."

If the snow covered the whole world outside, and the wind was blowing so coldly, why did he feel so warm?


End file.
